Love, Axel
by MissMandu
Summary: It is a universal law that if you miss someone to the point of stupidity, you write them letters you actually hope they never read until they pop into your life again. Axel/Roxas.


『Love, Axel』

_January 1__st__._

Dear Roxas,

It is a universal law that if you miss someone to the point of stupidity, you write them letters you actually hope they never read until they pop into your life again. Of course, when you _do_ return to my life (because I refuse to believe you won't), there's no chance in hell you'll actually _read_ this. But, knowing my fickleness and your stubbornness, and because I'm a careless bastard that may or may not let it slip that I actually did something as stupid as this (plus the fact that I honestly can't really say _no_, you know, and I have the biggest soft spot _ever_ for…yeah, you, stop smirking like that), you'll probably get your hands on this if—no, _when_—you find me.

But. Until then.

Today, I woke up with a strong headache (damn that Demyx to Antarctica where his sitar-penis thing freezes and all the strings snap, heh, heh) after a night of heavy drinking the night before. Because. Well. Yesterday was New Year's Eve. Technically, the New Year's Eve party extended all the way to New Year's, as expected. And oh yeah, Demyx is called Myde now. And I'm called Lea now. And you're called…Sora. As much as it pains me, you're Sora now. But Roxas will be back. I know. If I had spiky wheels as flaming weapons before, then you're a separate entity from the keyblade master. I refuse to think otherwise.

_Anyways, _your ability to distract me otherwise, Demyx came over last night at six PM with more booze than I'd ever seen in my entire live_s_, a grumbling Zexion (Ienzo) in tow, saying something along the lines of, "_BOOZE PARTY. NOW. GET THOSE ILLEGAL FIREWORKS OF YOURS OUT, NOW_."

Well, who am I to try to stop a giddy Demyx? The guy isn't dumb, and he isn't safe, even in Normal Human form. You'd be amused to know he still hasn't ditched that mullet-wall on his head. In fact, I think it decided it needed a mind of its own now.

Technically:

Zexion: I apologize for Demyx's party loving nature.

Me: Eh. It'll be fine. I think. He came just because he wanted to light the fireworks, huh?

Zexion: …yes.

Note: we call each other by our Orgy XIII names because that's who we are, really. Somehow, we haven't seen the other members yet. We don't even know if they've been reincarnated; their karma was probably too sucky to be reincarnated. Hell yeah, Buddha!

In case you're curious, there are no hard feelings between me and Zex. That's because, a few years ago, Demyx saw me and he was with Zexion. He dragged him over. We talked, and I said something like, "I'm really sorry I had the clone of the best friend and possible boyfriend of the keyblade master murder you in what I hoped back then was a terrifying way" and he said something like, "Oh, understandable. I suppose Roxas isn't back yet?"

That bastard.

Anyway, it's been like this for a while: Me, Demyx, Zexion. Occasionally Demyx's weird friend named West. His knowledge expands to pot, and music, and then that's about it. Well, three hours into our little booze party, Zexion had to place that expensive book of his on a really high shelf Demyx couldn't reach, and the latter was getting very touchy-feely with the former. I oh-so-politely ignored them and sniggered behind my beer bottle. Mercifully, the almost free porn stopped and Demy there slurred a song about friendship. Three musketeers, until Zexion kicked him and he added a fourth.

One guess who the fourth is.

And the three of us (one sober [because he's too good for beer and is only a social drinker that sips fine daiquiris and martinis or whatever], one tipsy, one full-on mind-raped by the alcohol) went to a bookstore because the sober one is always the most powerful one, and then I remember getting kicked out.

Oh, yeah. And then we lit a couple of bottles of beer on fire (lit matches into those bottles—who needs any other source of entertainment?), and lit those fireworks. Zex almost lost half his face, Dem laughed in his face, and I got that glee I always get when I light something on fire. The fire department wasn't called because I'm careful that way.

It sounds really stupid, but I kind of made one after you: bright yellow and bright blue and something sad about it. Utterly stupid, yeah. Maybe when you find me, or when I find you, you'll see it and not laugh at me.

That was my first act of New Year's: light something until it exploded sparkles.

Roxas in the Sky With Diamonds.

Please ignore that idiotic name, and I hope you have a badass year. Not that you'd need any hope for it. Always the steel bit to the powerful magnet of trouble, aren't you?

Love, Axel.

**Plot bunny. Expect incoherentness occasionally, and you know those squiggly red lines that Word gives? I can't get rid of them by clicking on "add to dictionary" because my dictionary is full. Damn. **


End file.
